


Vellichor

by duckbunny



Category: OTP: One True Pairing (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, NaNoWriMo, WIP, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckbunny/pseuds/duckbunny
Summary: Vellichor: noun; the sadness of old books





	1. Stoop

**Author's Note:**

> HI GUYS this is an utterly shameless NaNo fic which has not been METICULOUSLY plotted but which can be expected to include absurd wingfic tropes and a fair bit of actual plot involving supernatural things and meditation on the nature of self. It's going to be fun. Watch this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RS65D3pumlE which is six minutes long and will pretty much bring you up to speed on OTP: the canon. Jon Groff kissing a boy starts at 4:03. You're welcome.
> 
> LET'S GOOOO

This is not Jeremy's first kiss.

Okay, he's been busy. He's been subject to the Momager from Hell. He's not exactly been putting himself out there. But he's _nineteen_ , and he has been kissed before.

Still, from his experience – okay, fine, his _limited_ experience – this is a pretty spectacular kiss. Dennis has got one hand under him for balance where he's leaning across the bar, and the other curled against Jeremy's cheek, warm against his skin. He's not guiding his head, or it doesn't feel that way. Just touching him. That seems like a great idea, so Jeremy mirrors it, putting his hand up to sink his fingers into Dennis's hair. Dennis makes a pleased little humming sound and smiles against his lips. He pulls back a little, like he wants to say something, but Jeremy doesn't really want him to be all smooth and distant just yet. He kisses back before Dennis can speak. He'd like to bite Dennis's lip, maybe, but he's not entirely sure how to do that yet – he pokes his tongue forward instead, feels it brush against soft lips, and Dennis's breath comes out shuddery.

When he lets Dennis pull away there's a moment where all he can see is sparkling blue eyes, before Dennis drops his head towards the bar and says “Shit.”

That's not the ideal reaction to kissing. “What?”

“I'm at work.”

 _Oh._ “So, when do you get off?”

Dennis opens his mouth, and then stops to quirk an eyebrow at him. Jeremy smirks. “Oh come on, you were asking for that.”

“Really? Well, my shift ends at seven. Which is an hour after _your_ shift starts.”

“Oh, _fuck.”_

“Right here and now?”

“Sure, let's go for a quickie in the beer cellar,” Jeremy says. “No, not here and now. But just for the record, is that, you know… on the cards? At some point? Or am I totally misreading things and now I need to go bury myself in shame? Please tell me so I can avoid making a fool of myself and destroying my career with a sex scandal and, just, say something so I can stop talking?”

Dennis kisses him again instead.

“You're not misreading things,” he says, into the next convenient pause. “That is on the cards. I would describe to you all the things that are potentially on the cards, but, well.”

“Well? Well what?”

“But I _am_ at work.”

“There is no-one here. _No-one_. You can tell me.”

Dennis straightens up to spread both hands on the bar. “No, but I can't, though. I don't know what you like. I'm going have to figure that out.” He lets the moment stretch, just long enough for Jeremy to start thinking about what “figuring it out” might be like, before he asks, “So, when do you get off?”

“Half past eleven,” Jeremy says promptly. “...and then I go home to the one bed I share with Sheila...”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned that. I don't think Sheila wants me in her bed.”

“No, I don't think she does.”

“Well,” Dennis says, thoughtfully, “I don't have a roommate.”

There's only one thing that can really mean, and what it means settles all warm and glowing in Jeremy's belly, but he asks anyway, “Are you inviting me over?”

“Yeah.”

“After work?”

“Yeah.”

“To stay the night?”

“ _Yeah._ ”

Jeremy grins, and after a moment Dennis lets go of his too-cool-for-emotions shell and grins back at him. He shakes his head a little before he leans over the bar again, as if to say that Jeremy is just too ridiculous, and then they're kissing again, until the door opens and Dennis is, quite suddenly, holding a glass in one hand and a rag in the other, polishing as if nothing was happening. Jeremy thinks there's a flush in his cheeks – there _definitely_ is in Jeremy's, and he cranes over his shoulder to see who's interrupted them. Threemakers. Damn. He could probably be chased off, but he'd tell Tina, and that would suck. Jeremy slides off his chair.

“I'm gonna,” he says, and Dennis says, “Yeah. See you later. Six o'clock, don't be late."

 

**

 

It's not exactly a beautiful day – too cloudy for that – but Jeremy decides the skies are filled with rainbows anyway. Sidewalks paved in gold, or something like that. His feet aren't touching them anyway. He's not more than halfway home before his phone rings.

“Hey, Sheila. You took your time.”

“...Yeah.”

That's not a good tone. Definitely not a good tone. The mediation must have gone badly. “What's up?”

“I… may have made out with Dan.”

“What? Sheila, no! He's bad, he's the bad guy, we went over this! You can't make out with the bad guy!”

“I know, I know, I just – it's complicated, okay, you'll understand when you're older. I can't believe I just said that. That is the worst sentence ever to come out of my mouth and I am counting the time I said “I do.” You are not going to understand because you're never going to end up with a _dirtbag_ like Dan.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It was stupid, he followed me into the stairwell and things got weird. What kind of asshole cheats on his girlfriend with his ex-wife? Oh, right, the kind of asshole who cheats on his wife, shoulda seen that one coming.”

“Come home,” Jeremy says. “Are you done there?”

“Yeah, we're done. Dan's got a new lawyer and everything's gone to hell.”

“Well, Loretta's going to be out of school soon. We can watch cartoons and pretend it's on her account.”

“Good idea. No, wait, better idea. She's at the babysitter's this afternoon in case we overran so you out on the cartoons and I will stop at the store and get us ice cream that we don't have to tell her about.”

“Ooh, good idea.”

“Hey, you had news, I almost forgot. What did you want to tell me?”

“Don't worry about it, we'll talk when you get back. It's not urgent. Get ice cream. Cookie dough.”

“Chocolate fudge brownie.”

“Okay, fine, fudge brownie, but you owe me cookie dough next time.”

“Deal. I'll see you soon. I just have to hide until Dan has left the building first.”

 

**

 

Sheila, when she comes home, falls into the corner of the sofa like she's too exhausted to hold her own spine upright, so Jeremy bounces down next to her and roots through the shopping bag for the ice cream. He balances it carefully between them, too solid still to get a spoon into, and tucks his feet up under himself.

“So, gory details. How bad was it?”

“Worst.” Sheila's got her eyes closed, head tipped back towards the ceiling. “The absolute worst, I swear I am going to kill that man one of these days and they will never find the body. I can't believe he spied on us like that, Jeremy! He went through the computer! I left him alone for one minute to find the fucking suitcase he said he wanted back and he fucking spied on us.”

Jeremy passes her a spoon. “So the settlement's off, then.”

“Yeah, the settlement's off. We'll be lucky if we get a penny. I just want some money from Loretta's father to raise his daughter, Jeremy. That's it, I just want to take care of her and keep a roof over her head and he is determined to drive this into court because he knows I can't pay for that. He doesn’t even want Loretta. He's just fucking tight.”

“Also, you kissed him.”

“Also that. I hate him so much.”

“You know, sometimes you say that and I think it's not that big a deal, but in this case, it is totally that big a deal.” Jeremy digs his spoon into the ice cream between them, scraping off a sliver from the frozen top. Sheila rouses enough to prod at it, but actually hacking out a chunk of the ice seems beyond her.

“So anyway, enough about my fucking shitty day, how was yours? You had something to tell me, all ominous sounding, what is it?”

“Well,” Jeremy says, drawing out the surprise, “I may have made out with Dennis.”

“No! Seriously? With Dennis? You can't do that, Jeremy, he's all – Dennis!”

“Yeah, that _was_ why.”

“No, but he's – he's Dennis! He's beautiful, and rich, and charming, and I'm not sure he has real emotions!”

“Only one of those sounds like a bad thing and he had enough emotions to start it, sooo...” Jeremy goes for another lump of ice cream and manages to chip off the corner of a brownie chunk.

“Okay. Okay, fine.” Sheila waves her spoon in the air. “Have fun. Be careful. Don't fuck him in my bed.”

Jeremy just looks at her.

“Fine, okay, you can fuck him in my bed but only if you change the sheets and like, open a window or something. Burn some incense. Do not tell em details or I will smother you in your sleep.”

“Anyway, that wasn't even my news.”

“It wasn't? You drop that bombshell on me and that's not even your news – oh my god, Jeremy, you took the job?”

“I took the job.”

“I am so proud of you. Really, I am, I'm just so happy for you, you're going to do so well.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, flopping down against the cushions, “I'm a little terrified.”

“Why? I thought you'd done this before?”

“I have, but I haven't done _this_ before, you know? It's like a real grown-up part that my mom didn't get for me. I didn't even audition, I got head-hunted, that's never happened to me before. Last time I was in a show I was living with my mom in my home town and yes, I know that was only like, fourteen months ago but you get my point, right?”

“Jeremy, you are going to be fine. You're going to be amazing. And if it all goes wrong you can move back in here and write pornography and upset Loretta's father until he pays me to kick you out.”

“Wow, Sheila, I love you too.”

“You'll be fine, you can stay over with Dennis until you get your own place with the millions you're going to earn from your show.”

“Not quite millions.”

“Enough for celebratory pizza?”

“I can't, I have to go to work in a couple hours.”

Sheila stops with her spoon halfway into a brownie. “You came home for an overnight bag, didn't you?”

“And to be here for you in your hour of ice cream and distress,” Jeremy defends himself.

“Sure. Well, I suppose I can cry into my pillow without embarrassment tonight, but you still owe me cartoons. Hey, did you check the contest? How are we doing?”

Jeremy pulls out his phone to look.


	2. Passage

It takes a few seconds for what Jeremy's seeing to sink in. He keeps trying to scroll to the left and see the top of the leaderboard, but it doesn't come up. Then he notices the little number next to their story, and his mouth drops.

“What?” Sheila looks at him. “What?”

“We're on top.”

“No!” She scrambles for her phone, ice cream forgotten and knocked over in her hurry. She's still staring at the page when Jeremy rescued it and eaten the lump of chocolate brownie that's fallen onto the couch cushion. “Oh my God. Oh my God, Jer, we're in the lead. How did that happen? Did someone promote the contest somewhere, did we get a bunch of new readers suddenly? We were losing and now we're – wait. Wait a second.”

“What?” It's Jeremy's turn to grab his phone off the cushion.

“Fellowship of the Schwing's not on the list anymore.”

“They withdrew?”

“They're not on the leaderboard… yeah, they're not listed on the contest page either, they must have pulled out. Why would they do that? They were guaranteed a win.”

“I have no idea,” Jeremy says, “but I am okay with this.”

“Well, I'm not! I wanted to win, not get a fricken – consolation prize.” She collapses against the arm of the couch again.

“Sheila,” Jeremy says. “Sheila. If I went to an audition, and my biggest rival dropped out, I would not be complaining about that. We're in the lead, be happy.”

“It doesn't feel like we're in the lead.”

“We are literally in the lead. We are ahead of everyone in the contest. Fellowship of the Schwing isn't in the contest.”

“We wouldn't have beaten them.”

“Okay, true, but that doesn't have to make you sad. We wouldn't have beaten The Hobbit.”

Sheila raises one eyebrow at him. “We would totally have beaten The Hobbit. There is no banging in The Hobbit.”

“True.”

“Also, our prose style is _way_ better.”

“No. Oh my God, who are you? Where's the real Sheila? You can't say things like that. You'll give Loretta bad habits.”

“She's going to have those anyway, she lives with me. Dan's trying to argue I'm an unfit parent, I don't think ragging on Tolkein is going to be the clincher. Anyway, you've got work to go to, don't you need to leave so you can gaze adoring at Dennis?”

“My shift's not until six. But I am going to go take a shower. Don't eat all the ice cream without me.”

“I'll leave you the dregs. Don't clog up the drain.”

“What do you take me for?” Jeremy says, mock-offended, and Sheila raises both eyebrows this time.

“A teenager.”

 

**

 

It's weirdly difficult, not to dress up nice for work. Jeremy wonders whether he should have shaved again, even though it's barely eight hours since he last shaved and he doesn't grow stubble anywhere near that fast. He spends a little too long in front of the mirror trying to style his hair with wet fingers. Gnaws at his lip a little. Pokes his dimples – he doesn't really _like_ his dimples, they make him look fresh-faced and innocent and that's useful for getting cast, supposedly, but he's nineteen and maybe the cherubic look is a bit young for him.

On the other hand, it seems to have _worked_.

Tina's already at the bar when he arrives. That doesn't help the knot of tension forming in his stomach, but it means he can't do anything about it if he wanted to. Dennis is restocking the orange juice and Jeremy wonders if he can get away with following him into the storeroom, but – Tina. He definitely can't get away with it. Tina's already glaring at him, but he's existing in her line of sight, so that's pretty normal.

“What happened to you?” Tina's stare is piercing.

“Hm?”

“You look disgustingly happy for a Thursday afternoon. I'm worried you might scare the customers.”

 _I'm winning a porn-writing contest_ , Jeremy doesn't say. _I'm going to kiss your assistant manager the minute you're not looking_ , he doesn't continue. But “I got an acting job,” seems fairly safe, so he says that part.

“An acting job.” Tina pauses in stacking the shot glasses. “The acting that you were so desperate to give up you came crawling to me instead. Great. Well done, W, you're as reliable as you look. What's different about this one?”

“I dunno, it just seemed right-”

“Yeah, I don't actually care. You get your usual shifts until you leave, no favours. You make it work with your schedule here or you quit. We clear?”

“Crystal clear,” Jeremy says, with his winningest smile.

Of the two of them, Jeremy is supposed to be the actor, but he's filled with admiration for how normal Dennis looks. It's as if this afternoon never happened. That detached mask he wears hasn't slipped an inch – Jeremy's going to get under it if it's the last thing he does – and Dennis sounds perfectly calm when he asks Jeremy to clear out the cardboard boxes from the storeroom.

It is, to be _absolutely_ honest, disappointing that Dennis doesn't follow him out to ravish him at once, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket and Dennis has said _We still on for tonight? Looking forward to it_. That's good. That's very good.

The next hour is _agony_ . Dennis keeps up his uninterested act – what if it's not an act? It's got to be an act – but that doesn't help when there's not a lot of space behind the bar, and they haven't got any customers in yet so they're just crowded in back there, passing very close behind each other, hundreds of chances for hands to touch in passing or Dennis to put his hands on Jeremy's waist from behind and it really doesn't help at all that Dennis isn't doing those things. He _could_ do those things. Jeremy can't stop waiting for them.

Dennis doesn't even say a proper goodbye. Jeremy's pretty sure it's just because of Tina, but he wishes – never mind. “See you later” thrown out to the room will have to do. There's an itch under his skin and he pulls at his own curls for a second, trying to calm himself down, and then has to try and tidy them while Tina's not looking at him, which is _perpetually_.

He finally gets another text from Dennis around half ten, after several eternities of anticipation. _I live a couple blocks away, can come get you. Meet me on the corner when you're done?_

 _Sure_ , he sends back, and immediately thinks it should have been _sounds good_ , or something more excited sounding, but it would not be cool to correct his reply after he's sent it, so – it's fine. He can make up for it with more enthusiasm later. He's got plenty of enthusiasm, especially if Dennis's hands will be as warm on his body as they were on his face – okay, time to think about something else _right now_. Tina's still watching him. She doesn't have the proverbial eyes in the back of her head and she doesn't need them. The ones in the front do the job just fine.

Jeremy checks the schedule while he's washing the pitchers. He's not on tomorrow but Dennis is, and then they have a shift together on Saturday evening and Tina's opening at lunch so she'll go home early. He thinks about the little triangle of skin where Dennis wasn't wearing a bowtie. He refills the ice tray.

Dennis, lurking in the shadows just beyond the streetlight on the corner, has his hands shoved in his jacket pockets and doesn't take them out when Jeremy finds him. Not kiss, no hug. Okay. Jeremy can deal.

“Hey, W.”

“Hey,” Jeremy says, and can't think of anything to add.

“How was work?”

“Fine.” _Fine_. Good job, Jeremy, you don't sound like a drooling idiot at all.

“Tina didn't get her claws into you too much?”

“Not too much. Man, was she in a bad mood today, or was it just me? She was watching the whole time for me to fuck up.”

Dennis laughs. God, he's too good-looking when he smiles like that. Jeremy swallows and looks down at his feet. “It was not just you. She accused me of looking sickeningly happy and threatened to force-feed Steve lemons.”

“What is up with her?”

“No idea. Left here.”

Jeremy fidgets at the door, waiting for Dennis to dig out his keys. There ought to be something you can learn about a person from their front door, but – it's a door. It's black. It's got a lock and a spyhole and a number in plain silver letters. Doors aren't interesting but this one seems particularly mundane.

Dennis stands back a little to wave him through the door, and shuts it carefully behind him, and switches on the light. There's a shivering energy under Jeremy's skin and he's not quite sure what to do with it. He can be smart. He can be cool. He's just trying to figure out _how_ when Dennis backs him into the wall.

“Hi,” he says, looking up into blue eyes and a little disbelieving half-smile.

“Hi,” Dennis breathes, and kisses him.


	3. Mews

Dennis is, Jeremy decides very quickly, fun to kiss. His imagination has not failed him on that point. Dennis kisses slowly, though not exactly softly, feeling out Jeremy's reactions with his hands braced on the wall, caging him in. His leather jacket strains a little across his shoulders. When Jeremy's caught the rhythm he reaches up to push it back – he maybe takes the chance to notice Dennis's broad chest under his hands on the way – and Dennis drops his arms to shrug the jacket off, comes back to put his arms around Jeremy. They stay that way for a while, Dennis content to kiss while Jeremy's hands roam across his back. Dennis has muscles under his shirt that he's suddenly determined to get a closer look at.

Dennis's voice sounds loud in the space between them. “You want me to show you around?”

“I dunno,” Jeremy says, and grins at him. “I'm having a good time exploring.”

“As much as you like,” Dennis murmurs, and looks at Jeremy through his eyelashes. Jeremy tries, he really tries, but he's still got those nerves twisting up under his diaphragm and he breaks into giggles, kisses Dennis again to make them stop. Dennis opens his mouth a little, lips pressed against Jeremy's so Jeremy echoes him and then their tongues are touching. Dennis tightens his arms a little. That's good. That's awesome.

“As much as I like, huh?”

“Mm, I did say that.”

Jeremy tugs at the back of Dennis's shirt, pulls it loose from his waistband. “Because I have been wanting to get my hands on you for _weeks_.” There's not all that much room under the shirt, but there’s enough space to set his palm flat on Dennis's back, against his spine. Dennis sighs a little, his tongue poking against his teeth. Jeremy strokes a little, easy circles, and watches the tiny widening of his eyes. Okay. He's been smooth enough. Dennis needs to take this shirt off and let Jeremy touch him.

Jeremy kisses Dennis again, to distract him from Jeremy trying to disentangle his hand from the back of his shirt, and goes for his buttons. No bowtie today. Was that deliberate? Was that _planned_ , that little patch of bare throat? Dennis leans back a little to give him room to work, rests his arms on Jeremy's shoulders and cocks his hip a little. “Find anything you like?”

“Well, I'm still exploring,” Jeremy says, “but initial results are promising. You, um, you can touch me as well, you know.”

“Oh, I'm going to,” Dennis says, low and rumbling, sending a jolt through Jeremy's belly. “But you can go first. I've done this more often than you, maybe.”

Jeremy scowls, defensive. “I have also done this before – oh, wow. I am going to lick you _all over._ ”

Dennis laughs. “Fine by me.”

“Was that sexy? That wasn't sexy. I don't know why I said that.”

“That was pretty sexy. Actually, that's a very nice image, you can _explore_ that one further any time.”

“Shut up,” Jeremy says, and he kisses the line of Dennis's collar bone, and licks it as well, because Dennis _did_ say he could and warm skin under his tongue is one of his favourite things. Dennis cups the back of his head, scratches lightly through his curls. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says automatically. “Can I check something?”

“Sure.”

He tugs the shirt off Dennis's shoulders – oh, _wow_ , shoulders – and down past his elbows, leaving his forearms caught in the tangled cloth. Dennis quirks an eyebrow, but he leans into Jeremy's hand splayed on his chest, and makes a tiny noise in his throat when Jeremy kisses him. His arms twitch against the shirt, unable to come up and forward. He licks his lips when Jeremy pulls away.

“Okay?”

“That was sneaky,” Dennis says, and he twitches against the shirt again.

Jeremy grins, in a way that he knows deepens his dimples, but he can't help it. “Is that a yes? You're not being very clear.”

Dennis sighs theatrically and looks up at the ceiling. He doesn't pull his hands free, though, so Jeremy digs his nails in a little, scratches down his chest. “Den-nis,” he says, “is this okay?” and Dennis gives in to a smile.

“Yeah. Yes. This is okay. Where'd you learn that trick?”

“Like I said, I've done this before.”

“Yeah, you did say that.” Dennis presses forward against his hand to kiss him again, which is completely irresistible. “And?”

“...And I have read a lot of – erotica. Okay. True.”

“And written it, too, you have to let me read your stuff sometime.”

“No. Oh my God, no, I will _die_ if you do that. You're a best seller, you can _not_ read my Hobbit porn. No.”

Dennis laughs breathily, “Okay, okay, I withdraw the suggestion.” He shakes the shirt off his wrists to put his arms around Jeremy again, and that puts Jeremy very close to his bare chest, the curve of his shoulder – Jeremy forgets any discussion about books in favour of getting Dennis's shoulder in his mouth. He doesn't bite, not exactly, he's a little shy about trying that, but he scrapes teeth over skin and licks the swell of muscle and hears Dennis mutter “Jesus,” in his ear.

“Hey, W, come here.” Dennis kisses him on the lips. “Should we talk about where this is going?”

Jeremy raises both his eyebrows, as high as they will go. “Is the answer 'to bed'?”

“It doesn't have to be, if you don't want -”

“Oh, I definitely want. Um, I mean, if you do.”

“Well, _yeah_. But, I mean, more general than that -”

“Dennis. _Dennis_. We are not having a relationship talk right now. We are having _sex_. I can't think about the future when you have no shirt on.”

“Oh,” Dennis says, “why would that be?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Yes.”

Jeremy smirks and throws his arms around Dennis's neck. “How about if I made you earn those?”

“Christ,” Dennis says, his eyes going wide. “Alright, you may not want the grand tour but can I at least show you the bedroom?”

Jeremy pushes his luck and pretends to be considering it, like he might actually say _no_ in any universe nearby to this one, but Dennis doesn't buy it; he steps back, catching Jeremy's hand off his neck, and turns to lead him upstairs. His butt is at Jeremy's eye level as they climb. It's almost a disappointment to reach the top, but Jeremy reminds himself that he's going to get to see Dennis's butt without pants in the way, and then reminds himself to be cool, be chill, you've done this before, it's no big deal.

There are three important things to note about the bedroom. The first is that Dennis clearly doesn't spend much _time_ in here, because the bed is perfectly made up, artfully positioned pillows and everything. The second is that Dennis has a bedframe made of fancy dark wood, polished grain gleaming in the gentle light, every dowel in the headboard perfectly turned, and Jeremy's dirtier instincts say: _hmm._ The third is that the bed is _huge_.

“Wow,” Jeremy says, intelligently, and Dennis flashes him a smile over his shoulder.

“See anything you like?”

“Uh, _yeah_. I like it, I want it, and also your bed is really nice -”

“Oh my God, you're terrible.” Dennis turns and steps backwards, letting the bed catch him in the back of the legs and falling onto it. He doesn't let go of Jeremy's hand, so Jeremy follows him, clambering up to straddle his thighs, knees on the edge of the mattress. He shuffles a little, trying to find his balance.

“Okay?” Dennis has gone serious suddenly, his gaze level.

“Yeah,” Jeremy says. He braces his free hand against the bed. The nerves are definitely back. “I, uh, I maybe don't know _exactly_ what I'm doing.”

Dennis pulls their joined hands closer and kisses the tips of Jeremy's fingers. “You don't have to. We can figure it out.” He sets Jeremy's hand flat on his chest and guides it down, over his nipple. Jeremy's breath comes out in a rush. “What do you want?”

He asks it gently but it knocks Jeremy sideways. “Uh. Um? You?”

“Really? You were at work all evening and you didn't think about anything in particular? No ideas at all?”

“Well. I, um.” Jeremy giggles, and feels the blush coming up in his stupid traitor face. “I feel bad now.”

Dennis reaches up to cup his cheek, strokes his thumb across Jeremy's lips. “Spit it out, W. I'm all yours.”

“I was, maybe, thinking about, um, your mouth?”

“Hm.” Dennis drops his gaze pointedly to Jeremy's crotch. He licks his lips. God, Jeremy's got to learn to lick his lips like that, that's a bolt of lightning to his already raging libido and _oh_ that's Dennis's hand against his jeans, against his stiffening cock, and Dennis sitting up partway to kiss him. “I would like that,” he says, every word definite.

Jeremy has to swallow to get his breathing back under control, but he manages to say “What about you?” and not grind too much against Dennis's palm.

“Don't worry about me. I would love to suck your dick.” Jeremy does worry, though, and it must show on his face, because Dennis moves Jeremy's hand from his waist to the bulge in his own pants, and splays himself out on the bed. “Just thinking about it,” he says, low and heated. “You on your back, me between your legs, looking up at you. Kissing your thighs. I really want to see those naked. Or with your jeans just pushed down partway, because you want me too much to wait. Finding out what your cock looks like, because I don't know that yet, and I - _really_ \- want to know.” Dennis is rolling his hips, just a little, and Jeremy can feel him hardening as he talks. “I want to know how you look, and how you taste, and whether you're the type who lies still and lets me take care of you, or – or if your hips twitch, or if you'll fuck up into my mouth and make me work for it-”

Jeremy kisses him again. It's that or explode.


	4. Lure

Here is what Jeremy has done before: He has made out with three people, one of them very briefly backstage before the stage manager caught them. He spent two weeks holding hands and kissing a boy from the ensemble before the run ended, and on the night before the last show collaborated in smuggling himself up to the boy's bedroom, and that was a weird and wonderful night where _someone else_ had their hands on him and they both tried using their mouths and they only really did it because the run was ending and haven't seen each other since, but Jeremy's never regretted it.

Since then, it's been a bit of a drought. He was busy with school and arguing with his mom and finding someone he wanted, let alone actually managing a relationship, seemed way out of reach. So it's faintly overwhelming to find himself being rolled onto his back and Dennis snaking an arm under his head. Jeremy can't quite keep up. He settles for burying his hands in Dennis's hair and kissing him wildly. Dennis wants to suck his cock. Dennis. His cock. _Wants_ to. And Dennis has got one hand teasing at the hem of Jeremy's t-shirt, rubbing his thumb against the strip of skin above his waistband. Jeremy lets go of him long enough to sit up and pull it over his head and that was a _great_ idea because now Dennis is stroking him, down his breastbone, down his belly to circle his navel. Down to his waistband to hook fingers into a belt loop and roll Jeremy onto his side. Jeremy puts his arms around Dennis and tries to keep up. Dennis has somehow got his thigh between Jeremy's legs and they're kind of grinding on each other and it's a little embarrassing but fuck anyone who expects him to hold still right now. He puts his hand on Dennis's ass. Dennis makes a soft noise of approval through their kiss.

“God, you're too cute,” Dennis says. “I just want to unwrap you and go to town. Can I do that? Can I get my mouth on you?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeremy says, far too high in his throat, but Dennis just smiles and starts messing with his fly so it's fine. He has to roll onto his back again to give Dennis room, and Dennis drags his jeans down off his hips as though Jeremy was something sacred, hidden away under the cloth. He keeps crawling down the bed to get them off and Jeremy would have just kicked them off his feet but now he's terrified he'll hit Dennis if he tries, so he lies still, propped up on his elbows to watch Dennis peel off his socks for good measure. He wiggles his toes. Dennis kisses the inside of his knee.

“Pass me a condom?”

“Oh,” Jeremy says, unevenly, “where are…?”

Dennis nods towards the bedside table. “Top drawer.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says, because that makes sense, and a couple of seconds later catches up with events and actually stretches over to fetch them. Dennis wastes no time rolling one onto him. He licks his lips dramatically, looks up through his eyelashes and waggles his eyebrows and Jeremy bursts into giggles again.

He stops giggling when Dennis's mouth closes around the head of his cock. Warm. Much warmer than hands, God, that's nice. Warm and slick and _tongue_ and Jeremy collapses back onto the mattress, feeling like he might fall up into the sky at any moment. Soft heat creeps down his cock. Dennis is doing something complicated with his tongue. He can't quite line up the sensation with how it ought to be produced but there's – rubbing, and – flicking, and - “oh, God,” Jeremy says aloud. “Fuck.”

Dennis tangles their fingers together and pulls on his hand. Jeremy tilts his head up to see Dennis looking intently at him but he doesn't quite get the message. Dennis slides off his cock. “Look at me?” he says softly, before his tongue comes back out to lick a warm stripe along the length of him and distract Jeremy horribly from the attempt to drag a pillow under his head. Jeremy swears under his breath when he's finally propped up enough to watch Dennis sinking back down on his cock, apparently trying to fit the entire thing down his throat. How big is a mouth? How much can Dennis reasonably – _fuck_ that's nice – what is he even _doing_ with his tongue to make that – Jeremy fists his hands in the sheets and whimpers. Dennis flicks him a glance and wraps a hand around the part of Jeremy's cock not already in his mouth. He somehow looks put together, even with no shirt and his lips stretched open. Like he could do this all day. He's not going to have to do this all day. Jeremy crushes the sheets between his fingers and tries to hold still.

He's gnawing a hole in his bottom lip when Dennis eases off him again. He keeps stroking with his hand, frustratingly slowly. “Are you trying not to come?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeremy gasps.

“Don't worry about that, okay? I want to make you feel good. Just do whatever you need. Move around or make noise or whatever, it's all hot as fuck.”

Jeremy does make noise, when Dennis swallows him back down all at once, lips meeting fingers on his cock. He makes a weird keening noise in his throat, and Dennis groans appreciatively around him, which makes everything vibrate, and Jeremy's hips strain forward in pursuit of – and he can't keep his eyes open when he comes but he can hear Dennis enjoying it clear as day.

He doesn't move until Dennis peels his fingers off the sheet to hold his hand again. He cracks one eye to see Dennis lying beside him, propped up on one elbow, the smile lines crinkling around his eyes. “Okay there, W?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy manages. “I think. Wow.”

“I like doing that,” Dennis says, conspiratorial.

“It shows.” Jeremy forces the other eye open. “I should. Something.”

Dennis laughs. “Take a breath. Take a minute. There's no hurry.”

“I'm fine,” Jeremy insists, and concentrates on the tricky manoeuvre of getting the condom off himself without spilling everywhere. He mostly manages it. Isn't sure what to do with it until Dennis comes to his rescue with wet wipes and tosses the condom into a bin on the far side of the bed. It's kind of hilariously unsexy, this bit, but Dennis still has really nice shoulders when he throws the wipes the same way, and that makes Jeremy want to press close behind him and kiss them. Dennis tilts his head so Jeremy can get to his neck. He's tensed up, but the attention eases it out of him and when Dennis rolls on his back he's wide-eyed and blinking. Jeremy feels like he should be nervous but he's too wrapped up in a warm pink haze to reach for it.

“Can I touch you?”

Dennis nods hastily. “Anywhere you like.”

 _Anywhere_ , to Jeremy's mind, naturally invites _everywhere_ , but he tries not to grab like a four-year-old at a buffet. Dennis is very obviously hard, so Jeremy takes his cue from earlier and sets one hand on the outline of his cock. He squeezes lightly through the fabric. Dennis breathes in. Jeremy leaves it there while he kisses Dennis again, on his mouth – latex taste, he tries not to pull a face – and his neck and then down to his nipples, and by the time he's licking those Dennis is rocking up into his hand. Jeremy goes for his fly. Doesn't stop licking.

Dennis falls apart pretty quickly after that. He's loud, or, well, not loud exactly, but – he makes a lot of noises, little whimpers and gasps and moans that Jeremy wants to collect up and keep. The rhythm keeps changing, sometimes Jeremy's stroking his cock with the hand in his boxers, sometimes Dennis is fucking up into his grip. “Oh, Christ,” Dennis says suddenly, with a crack right through his voice, “oh, God,” and he fumbles for Jeremy's wrist and stops him.

Jeremy holds his breath. Dennis is still twitching but he definitely didn't finish, he's just _stopped_ , whimpering softly in time with the thrusting of his hips. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Dennis gasps, “no, you – oh – you're fine, I promise – I'm just – _God_. I'm not gonna come, I can't, and that makes it feel – I need to put the brakes on.”

Jeremy stares, aghast. “You can't come?”

“Not – not never-ever. I can sometimes. It's just not one of those times. I can feel it, we could keep going all night and I wouldn't.”

Jeremy swallows. “Oh. That's. Wow.”

Dennis looks up at him. “Are you getting off on this?” It's hard to tell whether he's hurt or not, with the way his voice is still shaking, but Jeremy was raised with a very clear understanding of the importance of honesty in relationships, so he takes a deep breath and nods.

“Kind of. A little bit. I'm really sorry you can't come, I want you to, but then you – you look _really_ good like this and you said all night.”

“And you went and thought about how that would look, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to watch that evil streak, W, it might run away with you. Oh, no, hey, come here. Evil is fun and you're okay.”

Jeremy presses himself in close beside Dennis, throwing an arm across his waist. Dennis lies still, occasional shivers running through him, his eyes closed. Eventually he rolls over and buries his face in Jeremy's shoulder. “Don't feel bad,” he says, muffled. “You weren't doing anything wrong. My body just doesn't co-operate all the time, most of the time. It's still fun.”

“I won't be evil to you unless you want me to,” Jeremy says. Dennis kisses him.

“I like a little bit of evil. Not tonight, not that kind of evil. But sometime.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I might take revenge on you afterward.”

“What kind of revenge?”

“Turnabout's fair play.” Dennis grins at him, and Jeremy kisses his lips and thinks that sounds okay.


	5. Creance

Jeremy only realises he's dozing when Dennis moves the arm under his head, and wakes him up. They're still on top of the comforter and it's getting a little cold, lying here naked. He mumbles something wordless. Dennis kisses his forehead.

“Hey, W. You still there?”

Jeremy nods, rubbing his cheek against warm skin. “Mostly.”

“If we're going to fall asleep I think we should shower and sleep for real.”

“It's not that late,” Jeremy says, surprised.

“Fucking takes longer than you think,” Dennis says solemnly, and digs in his pocket – grey boxers puffing out of his fly, and Jeremy grins – for his phone. “Yeah, it's twenty to one.”

“That's not that late.”

“I'm old, grasshopper. It's past my bedtime.”

Jeremy sits up cross-legged and runs a hand through his curls. “Twenty-nine's not that old.”

“Oh, thanks – wait, how do you know how old I am?”

“You have it in your _Chalice of Gold_ author bio.”

“Oh my God.” Dennis breaks down into laughter. “I still can't get over the fact that you've read those.”

“Those are great books!”

“The first one came out like six years ago. Were you old enough to be in a book store unsupervised?”

Jeremy pouts. “I'm not a baby. I'm nineteen.”

“Don't remind me. I'm ten years older than you. I would rather not think about that in bed.”

“Ten years isn't -”

“That long? It's more than half your life. It's terrifying.”

“You know what's terrifying?” Jeremy says, determined to change the subject away from his age.

“No, what?”

“The fact that your body is _amazing_ and there are significant parts of it I have not yet put my mouth on.”

Dennis props himself up on his elbows, his back arching. Raises his chin a little. It's a good pose. “So what are you going to do about that?”

“Hm,” Jeremy says, “you know, I think I have an idea,” and tackles Dennis into the mattress.

 

**

 

They do go for a shower before too long – Jeremy is still sleepy, and Dennis seizes on the first yawn to get them moving, possibly in an attempt to prevent Jeremy from trying to suck his cock until he cracks again. Maybe in the morning. Sleep does sound pretty nice.

“Wow,” Jeremy says, standing in the bathroom doorway. “ _Wow.”_

“Yeah,” Dennis says, looking sheepish.

“How?”

“My parents have money. They refitted it when I moved in.”

“Wow.”

The shower isn't just a shower. There's a shower head, a huge one like a sunflower head projecting out from one wall, but the entire room is tiled in white and dark blue, light panels set into recesses here and there. A glass pane stretches floor to ceiling beside the door, protecting it from the spray, to keep the towels dry on their rack. The rest of the room is all shower.

“I'm moving in.”

Dennis kisses him softly. “Towels are there, soap, shower gel, help yourself.”

“You're not coming in? I mean, there is definitely room.”

“No, it's fine. We'll take turns. There should be plenty of hot water.”

“Yeah, that wasn't actually what I was worried about.”

Dennis reaches up to strokes through his hair. He smiles. It almost looks wistful. “I'll see you in a minute.”

“Huh,” Jeremy says to himself, when the door is safely shut behind him. “That all just happened. _Totally_ worth the wait.”

The water pressure is fantastic.

 

**

 

Morning comes slowly, filtering through heavy curtains. Jeremy has got used to sleeping with someone else in the bed but it's a thrill to wake up and see Dennis sleeping peacefully beside him. He blinks owlishly when Jeremy touches his chest.

“Huh. Hey.” Dennis rolls over and Jeremy follows his lead, letting himself be spooned. “I forgot you were here.”

“Really? Was I that boring?” That's upsetting. Jeremy thought they had a good time. Dennis didn't come, maybe that means it was terrible. Maybe he just didn't want Jeremy touching him anymore.

“No, I forgot you weren't a dream,” Dennis mumbles into the back of his neck, which kind of makes up for the brief panic. “You were a nice dream. I like dream you.”

“What about real me?”

“Real you's better.” He doesn't say anything else, his breathing evening out, brushing steadily over Jeremy's skin. He's fallen back to sleep, if he ever really woke up. Cute. Jeremy vaguely needs the bathroom, but being spooned by Dennis is good for another few minutes.

 

**

 

Jeremy's got a text from Sheila when he finally checks his phone, when Dennis has stumbled off for his turn in the bathroom. It just says _Are you dead??_

 _I'm alive_ , he sends back, and reminds himself that she was very clear about no details. He should wait for her to admit she wants all the filthy specifics before he shares them, like how fucking amazing Dennis is at blowjobs, or that his shoulders are in-cre-di-ble under his shirts. For now he confines himself to _Dennis has SUCH a nice apartment you are missing out_

_just his apartment??? disappointing I was hoping he had a hotter straighter brother hiding in his basement_

_I'll let you know if I find one_

The bed bounces gently and Dennis rests a warm hand on Jeremy's bare waist. “Hey, W. You want some breakfast?”

Jeremy rolls over to face him. Oh. Dennis is naked. Not the pyjama pants he put on to sleep. Actually naked. There's just a whole lot of bare skin happening, and two very toned thighs.

“Don't look at me like that,” Dennis says, laughter at the edges.

“Like what?”

“Like you're going to eat _me_ for breakfast.”

Jeremy bites his lip. Bats his eyelashes. Dennis smiles broadly and leans down to kiss him, which is perfect, because it means Jeremy can pounce and knock him back into the bed. He lands sprawled halfway across Dennis's chest. Dennis shoves half-heartedly at his shoulders. “You're going to crush me.”

“No, I'm not, I'm smaller than you.” Jeremy wriggles around until he can sit astride Dennis's hips. Dennis wraps his hands lightly around Jeremy's thighs, steadying him. The view from up here is unreal. Jeremy runs his fingers along bare stomach and watches the skin jump under his hands.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, collecting himself. “Can I try something?”

“Sure.”

Jeremy reaches down for Dennis's hand and he gives it at once, trying to lace their fingers together until Jeremy disentangles them and moves his grip, hesitantly, to Dennis's wrist. Dennis licks his lips. Jeremy gathers up his courage and leans forward a little. Pins that captive hand to the bed.

“Huh,” Dennis says, thoughtful. His other hand soothes along Jeremy's thigh. Jeremy grabs for that one as well, holds Dennis down, hands above his head. They're very close together now, Jeremy tilting his hips down for balance.

“You caught me,” Dennis says softly. He strains up a little, towards Jeremy's mouth. “What do you want to do with me now?”

Jeremy kisses him. He knows he's being manipulated, but he can't help himself. Dennis opens his mouth a little, inviting Jeremy to lick inside, and then something huge and hungry takes over Jeremy's body and he's pressing Dennis back into the mattress with the force of his kissing. Dennis moans under him, his hips twitching upward. It's rough and urgent and messy. Jeremy bites Dennis on the neck and thinks about riding him. Dennis throbbing inside him. He grinds down, nothing but the thin fabric of his boxers between his ass and Dennis's half-hard cock. He breaks off his biting to gasp.

“Christ,” Dennis says raggedly.

Jeremy flexes his fingers. He's maybe been squeezing too hard on Dennis's wrists, he thinks, but Dennis doesn't pull away. “Is this okay?”

“God, yes. I don't like pain, exactly, but this is – if you don't pin me down and fuck me one of these days I will be personally offended.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says, unable to stop smiling. “I can do that. I think I can.”

He leans down to kiss again, the hungry monster a little less fierce, and doesn't think about anything except soft lips under his.


	6. Chapter 6

Jeremy has to go home at some point, though it's not until they've spent several more hours in bed, kissing and fondling and talking about what they like. Dennis knows a lot about what he likes and has an absolutely filthy mouth when he gets going. Jeremy knows less but he's got a lot of ideas to try out. Also he's now had his hands pinned down to the pillow while Dennis kissed his neck and that sort of blissed him out completely, so apparently he's going to have to think about whether he likes it both ways round.

He finally leaves shortly before noon, Dennis having to unwrap his arms from around his neck to get him to actually go through the door. His phone rings as he's passing the bar. Sheila squeals in his ear.

“Hi,” Jeremy says, wincing, “did you step on a Lego? You sound like you're trying to break something.”

“Oh my god, Jer!”

“Oh your god, what? What happened?”

“Oh my god, Dennis has actually killed you, hasn't he. You're dead. You haven't seen it yet.”

“Seen what?” Jeremy dodges a smear of something organic-looking on the sidewalk.

“Jeremy! The contest! It closed at twelve!”

He stops in his tracks. “Did we win?”

“Jeremy!”

“Sheila, oh my god, tell me, did we win? I need to know. I need to know right now.”

Sheila's response is another piercing yell of delight. “We won!”

Jeremy breaks into a run.

 

“Okay,” Sheila says when he gets through the door, “I ran the numbers and I don't want you to get too exctied, because morally speaking we still came second. FellowshipoftheSchwing had more votes when they dropped out than we did at twelve today. So I don't know if that's even going to be counted by the mods. Don't get your hopes up.”

“Sheila. Shei-la. Of course it's going to be counted. They dropped out! We didn't! If you drop out you can't win the contest. Morally speaking, we won fair and square.”

“I know, I know, I just wish we really were the best.”

Jeremy hops up onto the sofa next to her. “Oh my god, though, we won.”

“I know! We're gonna get published!”

“We're gonna get published!” Jeremy dances where he sits, arms flailing about. “We won and we're gonna get published! Take that, car mechanic AU! You wanna win, you gotta kill your nephew!”

“Frodo's dead and we're the winners,” Sheila starts, and Jeremy takes up the chant until the cat starts yelling at them from the kitchen.

 

Jeremy is not exactly used to having a boyfriend, and working with Dennis at the same time is just _weird_. He goes to work and Tina stares at him in disgust, throws her hands up and says “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know, if I find out you’re both getting fired.” So he’s got to be on his best behaviour at work and he doesn’t really know how to _do_ that and Dennis ignoring him is prickly-painful.

“Do you actually like me?” he asks, the moment the ordinary black front door closes behind them and they’re safe in Dennis’s house.

Dennis stares at him, keys still in his hand. “Small fry, of course I do. What makes you think I don’t? Tell me and I’ll stop.”

“You didn’t look at me all evening.”

“Oh.” Dennis leans down to kiss him, very gently. He tastes of the lemon slices he always sucks before he throws them out. “I’m trying to keep my job. Your job, too. We shouldn’t technically be involved, because I’m technically sort of your boss, so this is - We have to be more professional than anyone else. Even more so because this isn’t straight. We can’t do anything that looks like a scandal or it’ll become one.”

Jeremy falls back against the wall. “I don’t see how it’s scandalous.”

“I’m twice your age and you work for me, that’s scandalous enough if anyone wants it to be.”

“I don’t work for you, I work for Tina, and I’m not going to do that for very much longer.”

“And then we can be less careful.” Dennis pulls him into a hug. “I’m sorry I have to ignore you. You’re not wrong that I am. I can’t flirt with my boyfriend the way I could with just the cute new kid and that’s not fun. Can I make it up to you, can I take you out for dinner or something? Outside of work time we can be less careful.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, before the idea really sinks in, and “yeah, that sounds really nice, I would like that.”

 

There’s a tenant in the basement flat. Her name is Mrs Maynard and she doesn’t seem to really understand about gay people. She squints at Jeremy through her kitchen window one evening and calls up, “Say hello to your cousin for me,” and Jeremy spends forty seconds in a haze of pure distilled confusion until Dennis uncurls from laughing at the story enough to explain. He says he didn’t tell her they were related. Jeremy has his doubts.

“She’s about eighty,” Dennis says, “she kinda came with the house when I bought it. I could evict her but she’s not doing any harm.”

“Does she pay rent?”

He rocks his hand. “Sometimes. And sometimes I have to go and unclog the bathtub drain and she gives me oatmeal cookies. She’s got a grandaughter but she won’t go and live with her as long as she can walk around for herself. She’s very independent, I respect that.”

“And she doesn’t realise you’re gay.”

Dennis shrugs. “She doesn’t realise anyone is gay. She thinks it was invented for television. You can tell her if you want but she’s not going to believe you. She’ll just put notes through my door about you trying to play tricks on her.”

“Weird,” Jeremy says decisively, and kisses Dennis on the nose.

 

Jeremy rolls over one evening to find Dennis reading on his phone with his mouth hanging open. He still hasn’t managed to come when they’re in bed together, though he assures Jeremy with a wry little twist to his mouth that he _is_ getting off on his own in between times, it’s just his stupid body, and he reacts with enough enthusiasm to Jeremy offering to do things to him - anything, almost, though he clearly loves being the target of Jeremy learning to give head - that Jeremy’s mostly stopped worrying that it’s because he’s bad at sex. Dennis wouldn’t keep having it with him if he was _that_ bad at it. But it does mean that sometimes Jeremy will drift off on a pink cloud of orgasm and leave Dennis wide awake behind him.

Dennis on his phone waiting for Jeremy to come round again isn’t that unusual, but he has a glazed expression Jeremy thinks he recognises, because he has to avoid wearing it himself sometimes, when he’s reading fic in public. He nestles against Dennis’s shoulder. “What’re you reading?”

Dennis clicks his jaw. “Hobbit fic.”

“Is it good?”

“It’s the winning entry for A Hobbit For All Seasons. They published the zine yesterday.”

“I know, it is _so_ cool, Sheila panicked for _days_ over her little autobiography paragraph wait no you’re reading my fic you can’t do that. Stop. Stop that right now, give me that phone.”

He waves his hands above his head trying to grab it, but Dennis holds it out of reach and pulls him back down by his heair. Jeremy squeaks. “It’s a reread,” Dennis says mildly. “It’s good. You should be proud.”

“Reread?” Jeremy rolls over and groans into the pillow. “I’m going to die. You read my fic. How could you do this to me?”

“Well, you’ve read mine. You’ve read about the cyborgs having mushy romantic sex on the stupid boat, it’s only fair I get to read yours.”

“Is it turning you on?”

Dennis drops the phone on the bed and starts kissing Jeremy’s shoulders. “I want to get off,” he says, low and frustrated. “It’s good, you’re _good_ at this, you’re good at fic and you have _such_ clever fingers and I think I’m going to die.”

Jeremy grins.

**Author's Note:**

> I DEMAND COMMENTS COMMENTS ARE NANO FUEL


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